As of Tuesday morning, Michigan Tech’s three world-record attempts are now recognized by Guinness World Records. Therefore . . .

Let the word go forth from this time and place, that on Feb. 10, 2006, Michigan Tech students, staff and faculty; school kids from all over the Copper Country; and a whole lot of other people came together at Sherman Field. And there they did pelt each other like the dickens during the world’s largest snowball fight and flop down prostrate on the frozen ground flapping their arms up and down and their legs back and forth to make the most snowangels ever in one place. And they did all this in the presence of the world’s largest snowball, rolled up earlier that day by some of the largest people at Michigan Tech.

Travis Pierce, who coordinated the effort, was beside himself. “I just got off the phone with London,” he said. “I can’t wait to tell our friends in North Dakota.”

According to Guinness’s final numbers, Michigan Tech waxed the record previously set by Bismarck, N.D. In the category “most people making snow angels simultaneously in a single venue,” the university’s total, 3,784, more than doubled Bismarck’s record of 1,791.

The university also trumped Wauconda, Ill.’s largest snowball-fight record, 3,745 to 3,084. And it rolled over Benton Harbor with its snowball measuring 21 feet, 3 inches around, compared to the earlier record of approximately 16 feet, 9 inches.

The world record attempts were spearheaded by student groups, primarily the Wadsworth Hall Residents Association with support from the Blue Key Honor Society. Paul Judge, a junior majoring in biochemistry, was among the lead organizers.

“We’re bona fide,” he said Tuesday. “I can’t believe it. This is so awesome.”

“The best parts were the students organizing it and breaking the record and how it brought our community together,” said Pierce, associate director of housing and residence life. “People had a blast. Now, my favorite part is going around town and hearing people still talking about it.”

Judge remembers the night before the record-breaking attempt better than the day itself, which he describes as “one big blur.” Into the small hours of the morning, he, his parents and friends tied thousands of strings to the numbered bibs worn by participants to help assure an accurate count.

“I don’t know if I’d be up to it again,” Judge confided. “But this was a very appropriate finish for all the work that was put in. It’s nice to receive the recognition. And it was so amazing the way it all came together, with everybody pulling in the same direction.”